


Is This Not A Two-Way Street?

by DrabblingSparks (ingenious_spark)



Series: Saint Seiya prompts & short fic [107]
Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Crying, Drabble, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Kissing, Long Live Feedback Comment Project, M/M, Overworking, Prompt Fic, emotional stupidity, idk for soneone so smart val can be pretty dumb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 17:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18266060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingenious_spark/pseuds/DrabblingSparks
Summary: Valentine is smart about emotions, and definitely great at relationship advice. That is, for everyone other than himself. When it comes to his own relationships, his own emotional health... well.That's where Rhadamanthys comes in.





	Is This Not A Two-Way Street?

**Author's Note:**

> From a list of prompts over on my tumblr, [@oopsbirdficced](http://oopsbirdficced.tumblr.com). I open prompts semi-regularly, if you want to come check me out.

Valentine hates crying. Beyond the gross physical sensations of his nose being simultaneously stuffy and runny, the dehydration, the puffy soreness; it makes him feel like he’s weak. Weak isn’t a thing he feels he can afford himself to be. He’s Rhadamanthys’s lieutenant, his right hand. He must be strong, so that his general may lean on him, rely on him.

But sometimes everything gets to be too much, and he gets overwhelmed. It’s embarrassing, and it make him feel weak, and stupid, and small.

Usually he can feel when an episode is coming on, and say he’s getting ill and excuse himself. Today it crept up on him, and he’s trying to stuff everything back down until he can get somewhere private, hyperaware that he’s in his little office, and that anyone could come in at any moment. Crying in public, how humiliating.

He feels like his heart almost stops when a knock sounds at the door. He quickly blows his nose, dabbling away the tears and praying silently that his eyes aren’t too bloodshot or puffy.

“Who is it?” He manages in a mostly steady tone, after clearing his throat quietly.

“It’s Rhadamanthys. I think I’ve caught an error in the expense reports you sent me this morning,” his general says, coming in quietly, closing the door behind him. His attention is mostly on the papers he’s holding. To Valentine’s absolute horror a sob wells up in his throat at that. He ruthlessly suppresses it, turning it into a soft cough instead.

“Please, let’s review it,” he says, even as a deep well of hopelessness opens up inside his breast. He’s getting sloppy, and now Rhadamanthys has to catch his mistakes, a loud, irrational part of his brain says, overpowering the soft, reasonable part that’s saying he’s only human, and everyone makes mistakes and misses things, and that’s why Rhadamanthys’s team always second checks each other. It’s a part of teamwork, after all.

Rhadamanthys looks up, and Valentine can see the exact moment he realizes something is wrong, to his despair. He sets the papers down with a soft rustle, and turns all of his intense attention on Valentine.

Valentine hadn’t expected that, somehow, even though he knows Rhadamanthys takes time for the problems of his subordinates. He’s awkward, yes, but that doesn’t negate his compassion. Valentine is just proud that he’s never needed that compassion. That instead Rhadamanthys is the one who leans on him when he needs comfort. This could very well ruin that relationship. The tears spill from his eyes and he immediately turns away, pressing the back of one hand to his mouth. There’s a scrape of the chair as Rhadamanthys stands, and Valentine closes his eyes, hoping he’ll just leave. Instead Rhadamanthys kneels by his chair, catching his shoulders in strong hands.

“What’s wrong, Valentine?” He asks, soft and worried. Valentine shakes his head wordlessly. If he speaks he will only sob, and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to stop until he’s cried himself out. “Valentine,  _please_. Something must be wrong, let me help you,” he coaxes softly, and reaches up to gently brush sone tears away with the callused pad of his thumb. He cups Valentine’s cheek gently.

“I-” Valentine’s voice is thick and choked with tears. “I’ll be fine, I’m just overwhelmed right now, please go,” he manages to get out between hitching sobs. Rhadamanthys frowns up at him, confused.

“I’m not just going to  _leave_  you, you need me.” He says, sounding baffled. Valentine shakes his head.

“You’re not supposed to see this. If you see me when I’m weak you’ll stop relying on me,” he says, snuffling. Rhadamanthys looks even more bewildered.

“Who told you that?” He demands, half a second from outraged Valentine blinks wryly, his eyelashes clumping together from the tears.

“No one did,” he mumbles. Rhadamanthys looks crushed, and Valentine freaks out, dissolving into even more wracking sobs. Rhadamanthys pulls him into a strong hug, tucking Valentine’s face into his shoulder. Valentine tries to resist, but it’s very difficult.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t rely on me, Valentine.” His deep voice is quiet and deathly serious, and Valentine frowns in confusion, because that’s not it.

“That’s not right,” he mutters. “If I’m not strong, you’ll stop relying on me and I don’t want that to happen. So you can’t see me when I’m weak.” It’s perfectly logical to him.

“That’s not true, Valentine, gods. If I’ve made you feel that way I’ve failed, as your general and as your friend. Relationships are supposed to be reciprocal- hells, you’re the one who taught me that! So why would you think it didn’t apply to you?” He leans back to look Valentine in the eyes, and Valentine blinks at him, shame beginning to well in his gut. He had taught Rhadamanthys that. “You’re stuck with me, like it or not. Weak or strong. I just hope I can make this up to you.” Valentine can’t help himself. Rhadamanthys is just- giving him something he’s craved subconsciously. He can’t stop himself as he leans in, taking something else he’s always craved.

He kisses Rhadamanthys with trembling, tear-stained lips, hesitant and achingly hopeful. Rhadamanthys goes still, and Valentine’s heart drops into his stomach, sick and anxious.

Then Rhadamanthys cups his face gently, thumbs sweeping his tears away. He tips his head to the side slightly, and the kiss becomes more natural, sweet and gentle. Valentine’s tears slow and stop, and he loses himself to kissing Rhadamanthys, quiet and devoted. Rhadamanthys kisses back, slow and gentle, and it’s everything Valentine has ever wanted.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the LLF Comment Project, which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:
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